


Dark Enough.

by heiruuu



Category: Voltron Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Death, Depression, Highschool AU, Langst, Platonic Relationships, Suicide, mentions of self harm, no relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heiruuu/pseuds/heiruuu
Summary: Pidge often found herself looking over the boy in the front of the class.She was curious, obviously, to how he was always so cheerful.Oh, if only she knew...





	Dark Enough.

(There is a boy in the front of my class,)

Of course, Pidge was aware of Lance's existence. Of course, she can see and hear him. She wasn't blind, nor was she deaf. 

That's why she chose to sit in the back of the class, where she could tone down the noise. But of course, the noise somewhat helped her from her rather disturbing thoughts. 

She remembers well how she pictured her death, how she wrote a note while she was in class, dedicating it to everyone she loved and cared deeply for. 

She remembers how she crumpled the paper up in frustration, how she tried to keep herself together.

(Who I swear I've never seen do anything but laugh.)

The noise everyone was making helped her distract herself from her morbid fantasies. All she could hear the moment she steps into the classroom is the loud obnoxious laughing and the occasional screeching. 

Mostly coming from Lance. 

(He's tall and he's smart, beautiful and strong.)

It was getting to her, she admits. But that was really one of the only downsides of being in the same room as him. 

She figured he was kind of funny, but he could be absolutely extra at times. 

(And when someone's down, he tries to fix what is wrong.)

She's also seen him in the hallway, sometimes behind the school, trying to help other people, trying to comfort them. 

She never expected that, knowing that Lance was that self centered person who probably wouldn't care in her class. But she was proven wrong. 

(How does someone so perfect,)

Pidge often wondered how he was able to keep people from doing horrible things to themselves. If he had some kind of magic want to just zap away her not-so-pretty habits, then she'd take it. But that wasn't actually the case (obviously.) 

And that's when things went into place.

(Feel so insecure.)

It's not that Pidge was stalking Lance, or anything creepy like that. She just happened to bump into him in the hallway.

Pidge dropped the library books she forgot to return. She mumbles a small 'sorry' to the person, before quickly dropping down to pick up her books. The person helped her, obviously. 

(As to scar his skin with cuts and burns,)

As she was picking up her books, something had caught her eye. 

Her breathing hitched as she stared at the person's covered arm. The jacket's sleeve was slightly pushed back. Revealing a small portion of white covering they're wrists. There was (what seemed like) blood staining the bandage. 

She paused her actions, staring at the guy's wrist. 

The person must've realized because they frantically tugged down their sleeve. 

(And still want to hurt more.)

"It's nothing," They- Lance? Pidge looked up at the boy, who was wide eyed. 

What the fuck? 

Lance placed Pidge's books in her arms, before standing up. Before the girl. Could even say anything, Lance already beat her to it. "Can we not talk about it?" He asked, his tone desperate.

(How does someone so loving.)

Pidge bit her lower lip, contemplating. Hesitantly, she nodded her head. 

That's where she went wrong. 

(Learn to hate his own guts?)

Lance visibly relaxed. "Thanks," He smiled, before quickly running off to (most likely) his next class. 

(Drawing a picture on his arms with a blade,)

She stood there, staring towards the direction where Lance ran off to. 

What the ever loving fuck was that? 

She sighed, looking down at her own arm, seeing that there was a small bandage peaking out of her sleeve as well.

(As if his mind wasn't dark enough.)

.

.

.

(There is a boy in the front of my class.)

The next few weeks were a blur, with Pidge trying to finish her loads of homeworks. She completely pushed the thought of what had happened a week ago into the back of her head. 

She had difficulty in doing so, though. It was hard to focus, especially when she can see Lance in the very front of the class, that bright smile still on his face, despite what he'd done. 

(Who's sad you'll find it rare to see him smile or laugh.)

Pidge knew she made a mistake, and even tried confronting him about it. But she never got the chance. He'd always rush out of the room whenever she was around, or he'd just plain out ignore her. 

(His friends tell him jokes, like that one with the guy,)

She's been observing him for the past weeks, and she's itching to just talk to him. 

Lance had been acting off lately, his smile growing smaller and smaller everyday. He's been jumpy, too. He barely focuses on class, and when Keith told him to shut up, he only shrugged.

Pidge was taken aback. 

(But all he does is close his eyes and enter his mind.)

That was it? He'd usually make some snarky remark over what Keith says.  He seemed a lot worse as well. Dark bags sitting under his now dull eyes, his voice a lot weaker than it was. 

Pidge had to talk to him.

(How does someone so perfect,)

She cornered him in the classroom, when everyone was heading to their next class. She remembered how she stomped over to Lance's desk, how she grabbed his arm and looked him dead in the eye. 

"Talk to me," She urged him. Lance shook his arm out of her grip. "Pidge, I'm okay.Didn't I tell you not to-" 

"Lance, you're not okay!" 

(Feel so insecure.)

Lance bit his lower lip, visibly tensing up. "What I'm going through is something you shouldn't be worrying about," He went on, giving her a small, sincere smile. "You have enough to worry about." He glanced down at her arm, and Pidge noticed. 

(As to scar his skin with cuts and burns,)

She looked down at her own covered arm, then back up at Lance. 

The boy averted his gaze from her.

(And still want to hurt more?)

He turned on his heels, waving goodbye to Pidge. "And please, don't do it," He paused, tossing a piece of paper towards Pidge, who caught it. "There are a lot of people who care about you." 

(How does someone so loving, 

Learn to hate their own guts?)

And with that, he disappeared into the hallway.

Pidge carefully unfolded the crumpled paper, revealing that note she'd written weeks and weeks ago. Her breath was caught in her throat, and all she could do was stare at the note. 

(Drawing a picture on his arm with a blade,)

'How did he find this?' Was all Pidge could think of. Slowly, she descended back to her seat, slinging her backpack over her back and making her way out of the room. 

(As if his mind wasn't dark enough,)

She ended up in the girl's bathroom, throwing water over her face as she tried to clear her mind from what just happened. 

(For his imperfections...)

.

.

.

Pidge remembers entering the classroom ever so cautiously, expecting to see Lance seated on his desk, chatting quietly with his friend, Hunk, or arguing over something stupid with Keith. 

But there was no sign of Lance. 

(There was a boy in the back of my class,)

She tensed, seeing how uncomfortably quiet the room was. She then noticed the small fake candles over Lance's seat, how there were many letters and flowers on top of the desk. 

Her breathing hitched, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest. 

(Who yesterday took a breath that was his last.)

She could feel her feet move over to Lance's desk, which was next to Hunk's, who was bawling his eyes out. 

(He wrote a few notes,)

"I'm sorry, I didn't say. But my mind was messed up, you couldn't save me anyway." Pidge read the note lying on his desk, completely visible to everyone who passed by. 

She paused, taking a deep breath. 

"And to the girl in the back of my class," She went on, her hands shaking as she read the letter. "Who feels the way I did...

How does someone someone so perfect, feel so insecure? 

As to scar her skin with cuts and burns,

And still want to hurt more...?"

**Author's Note:**

> HEHEHE>:3


End file.
